poetry

Different Bird

A flock of feathered friends
gather 'round the feast,
telling jokes and stories,
bantering with great ease.

Along comes a scruffy one
who wants to join the fun.
He squeaks a touching tune
but the others turn and run.

Different feathers,
different tune,
different all around.
The little bird takes refuge in the morning sun.

He could try to whistle like the others
but why sacrifice his gifts?
He could try to grow new feathers
but why blend in with the rest?

Even if he tried to be 
a less different little bird
the others would know he's trying
and would not believe his word.

Little bird perches 
high up on the tree
singing his lovely tune
alone but true and free.

Along comes a different one...




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